


dating dean

by sharkfish



Series: kissing strangers [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (No Panic), Blow Jobs, Castiel's First Time With A Man, Coming Out, Dating, Face-Fucking, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Muggle Quidditch, Phone Sex, gay revelation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 05:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15333267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish
Summary: Two weeks ago, Cas was lonely, though he would’ve denied any dissatisfaction in his life. And then he kissed a man, and the man ended up being Dean Winchester, who pouts good-naturedly when he loses a board game and loves Cas’s cock and laughs at Cas’s jokes and gets excited trading ideas about the future of AI.





	dating dean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RooBear68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RooBear68/gifts).



> [Roobear68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RooBear68/works) left a comment on blue clear sky that led to this. 
> 
> [suckerfordeansfreckles](http://suckerfordeansfreckles.tumblr.com) and [jemariel](http://jemariel.tumblr.com) were a huge help as always.

Even though they spent half the weekend together — four orgasms, three meals, two movies, one round of Pandemic — Cas still thinks he’s supposed to wait to contact Dean. He tells himself he’s not desperate to hear Dean’s laugh again and he’s certainly not desperate for the other sounds Dean makes, like when Cas slid two fingers into him and rubbed just right, so he refuses to fidget through his Sunday morning, wondering what Dean may have told his friends about Cas the night before. 

Maybe Dean said,  _ It was almost cute how he had no idea what he was doing.  _ Or  _ Jesus, I’m never kissing a bunch of strangers for $50 again.  _ Or  _ He’s kind of a geek but I’m into it.  _

Cas really has finally distracted himself — with work, of course — when his phone buzzes with a text alert. 

**Dean:** Have we known each other long enough for me to admit how hungover I am today   
**Dean:** Praying for the sweet release of death kind of hungover

**Cas:** Fun at Charlie’s? 

**Dean:** There were everclear jello shots 

**Cas:** Is that even legal? 

**Dean:** Probably not, Charlie and Jo are rebels 

**Cas:** I’m sorry you’re feeling badly. Can I help? 

Cas cringes as soon as he hits send. That’s an awful  _ familiar  _ thing to offer, like they are friends who take care of each other all the time. 

**Dean:** Nah I’m pretty gross. But it’d be cool if we could have dinner sometime this week

**Cas:** A date? 

**Dean:** After yesterday I sure hope so 

**Cas:** Yes. I’d love to.

**Dean:** Ok I’m going back to bed bc I feel like shit warmed over. Just wanted you to know I had a good time yesterday, lmk when you’re open for dinner

**Cas:** Tuesday? I can be out of work by 4.

Despite saying he was going back to bed, Dean replies immediately. 

**Dean:** Pick you up at 6?

 

Cas bicycles at dusk, lost in his own brain as he goes up and over hills, thighs burning. He thinks about his life two weeks ago: late nights in a hollow office building, awkward networking happy hours, vaguely wondering if he was somehow different than other people because he’d never felt breathless in someone’s presence.

He was breathless for a full minute the morning before, when he crawled out of Dean’s bed to find Dean in the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, mixing chocolate chips into pancake batter. He smiled over his shoulder and Cas had to clench his fingers around the doorway to keep himself standing. 

He was breathless and starry-eyed when Dean fucked him, murmuring things dirty and sweet in his ear. It was a revelation, and he stopped questioning if Dean had been faking the pleasure when Cas been inside him. It was so different and so delicious, addicting, and Cas wonders if they’ll end up in bed together again on Tuesday. 

Two weeks ago, Cas was lonely, though he would’ve denied any dissatisfaction in his life. And then he kissed a man, and the man ended up being Dean Winchester, who pouts good-naturedly when he loses a board game and loves Cas’s cock and laughs at Cas’s jokes and gets excited trading ideas about the future of AI. 

Cas takes a long, cold shower after his ride, and he sits on the couch with his computer for awhile, but he’s fidgeting again, his thoughts straying. 

He realizes with some alarm that he has no idea how to date a man. 

With women, there are guidelines. He knows the role he has to play. With Hael, Cas picked her up, Cas opened doors, Cas paid for dinner, Cas walked her to the front steps. Even when they became intimate, there were parameters. Dean, though, is open with his affections, touching both casually and with intent as often as possible, seemingly willing to try anything. Dean’s picking Cas up. 

Cas gives up on work and crawls into bed. He lays in the dark for awhile, and then his thoughts return to Dean. He closes his eyes and lets himself drift into the sense memory of Dean’s hands on him. He thinks about Dean kissing like he was hungry for Cas; he thinks about the way Dean tastes. He thinks about how the sex with Dean was all mouths and hands and cocks and happy kisses. His hand drifts down his stomach to cup his cock, starting to harden, through his boxers. 

Cas wiggles his boxers down to his thighs and wets his hand with lube before stroking himself. There are other things Cas wants with Dean, too: he wonders what it would be like to lay Dean out on the bed and ride his cock. He wonders how long he could lick Dean open before Dean would start to beg. 

Cas comes fast, making a mess of his t-shirt, and it’s easy to fall asleep once he’s cleaned up. 

 

Cas is picking through a chicken Caesar, his attention still on his computer, when his phone buzzes on his desk. 

**Dean:** Having a good day so far? 

**Cas:** Hello. Yes, it’s going well. I’ve only had one unnecessary meeting so far this morning. How is yours? 

**Dean:** Lucky me, no meetings. That corvette came in and she’s going to be amazing. Hang on, sending some pics

Dean sends several pictures in quick succession of a car that looks rode hard and put away wet, paint blemish, interior ripped and stained, undercarriage rusty. Dean had grinned in excitement when he told Cas what his next project was going to be. 

**Cas:** Wow. I can imagine. 

**Dean:** I’ll quit bugging you. :) Fingers crossed no more meetings today

**Cas:** Thank you. 

 

Cas puts together an easy dinner and eats on the couch with his legs folded underneath him, a random title from his watchlist on the tv. When he’s done eating, he puts his plate on the coffee table and picks up his phone instead. 

**Cas:** Will you send me the picture you took for Charlie? 

It comes in a minute later. Cas stares at his own image, flushed and smiling, and then at Dean, who’s blushing too. 

**Dean:** Who are you proving my existence to? 

Cas hadn’t considered it, but he’d ignored Hannah’s text asking how his time with Dean went. He doesn’t want to jinx it by talking about the details, but maybe this would be enough. Cas sends it to Hannah without any text, then returns to Dean’s thread. 

**Cas:** Hannah knew we were seeing each other and asked how it went, but they don’t doubt your existence. 

**Dean:** Cuz you’re hot and you’ll have all kinds of guys begging for your attention before long 

Cas takes a careful breath. He types, but pauses for a long time before hitting send, staring at the words. In the end he decides the likelihood of Dean finding him too forward is low. 

**Cas:** Would you beg for me? 

The longer he stares at his phone — the screen goes black three or maybe four times — the colder he feels. What are the rules for apologizing for sexually harassing someone? 

**Dean:** Jesus Cas   
**Dean:** Call me

Dean picks up immediately. “Jesus, Cas,” he says. “You don’t mess around, do you?” 

“What do you mean?” Cas says, frostbite in his fingertips. 

“Goin’ all dommy on me before we even have a real date.” 

“I apologize,” Cas says. “I didn’t intend to make you uncomfortable. I would understand if —” 

“Cas,” Dean interrupts, and Cas can tell he’s smiling, but then his voice lowers. “What do you think I might beg for?” 

Cas closes his eyes and exhales. “You — you liked when I fucked you.” 

“Yeah, I did,” Dean says, rough and quiet. “You want me to beg for your cock?” 

Now Cas is molten hot, cock swelling in his jeans. “Yes.” 

Dean makes a soft, gasping noise, and says, “Make yourself hard and — send me a picture?” 

“I haven’t done this before,” Cas says, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder while he works open his jeans and starts to stroke his cock.

“Which part? Dick pics or phone sex?” 

“Both,” Cas says. “To be honest, I’m very inexperienced. Sexually.” 

“We don’t have to do any of that at all.” 

“Hold on for a moment, please,” Cas says, and hopes he can manage to take and send a photo without hanging up on Dean. 

Despite being aware of the prevalence of “dick pics,” Cas hasn’t really seen any, so he’s not sure what the expectation is. He takes several from different angles, hand wrapped around the base to show off the wet head of him with his foreskin barely pulled back, and picks one mostly at random because he’s not sure if any of them are sexy. 

Cas puts the phone back to his ear and says, “I sent it.” 

“Um,” Dean says, voice echoing a little on speakerphone. “Jesus, you have a gorgeous cock.”

“Will you send one as well?” 

“Working on it,” Dean says. 

Cas switches to speakerphone, too, so he can stare openly at the photo when it comes in. Dean did a better job than Cas, using a playful angle to get his face and most of his body in. He’s in bed among rumpled grey sheets, skin golden in the glow of his lamp, smile a little shy, cock thick resting against his belly. 

“Oh,” Cas breathes. 

“Yeah?” Dean says, and he sounds a little shy just like his smile looked, a different tone than he had before. 

“You’re — breathtaking.” 

Dean laughs softly. “So are you. And god, yeah, I’d beg for you to fuck my mouth.”

Cas’s cock jumps in his hand. “I wasn’t sure if people actually did that.” 

“I dunno about  _ people,  _ but I do. Especially — fuck,” Dean says, and Cas can hear the slick sounds of his hand on his cock. “Especially with you. Are you touching yourself?” 

“Yes,” Cas whispers. 

“It’ll be hard to beg with your cock down my throat but then — I’d want to beg you to fuck me. Christ, you’re good.” 

Cas moans and Dean whines in response. Cas strokes his cock slowly and tries to keep his voice even when he says, “Do you like it rough?” 

“Sometimes, yeah,” Dean says. “What are you thinking?” 

Cas leans his head on the back of the couch and closes his eyes. “Would you like to choke on me?” 

“Jesus Christ,” Dean hisses, and Cas can hear his hand speed up. 

“Would you like if I held your face into the pillow while I fucked you?” 

“Yeah, Cas, come on.” 

Cas loses the ability to form coherent thoughts, strung out on Dean’s voice — his words, his moans — lost in imagining holding Dean down, all that casual strength immobile under Cas’s hands. 

“Are you close?” Cas murmurs when Dean’s breath gets harsher. 

“Yeah,” Dean pants. “Please, Cas.” 

Cas shudders and comes all over his t-shirt, again, and listens to Dean as he winds upwards and then lets go with a soft moan. 

They listen to each other breathe for long moments, and then Cas says, “I didn’t expect that.” 

Dean laughs. “I didn’t really either. But then you got all — you know. Gets me all worked up.” 

“Dommy,” Cas says. 

Dean laughs like he’s embarrassed. “Yeah, that. I wouldn’t’ve guessed that about you.” 

“I made a mess,” Cas says. “I need to clean up.” 

“Ok, cool. I’ll text you tomorrow?” 

Cas smiles. “Maybe I’ll text you first.” 

“We’ll see,” Dean says. “Have a good night, Cas.” 

 

They text a couple times through the day, and Cas leaves work as soon as he can get away with it to take a long shower, shave, change his outfit more than once. When his doorbell rings, he jumps off the couch, switches off the tv, and hurries to the door. 

Dean is mouth-watering in a wine-colored button-up with sleeves rolled up his forearms and a pair of dark jeans. Cas thinks people will see them together and wonder what lottery Cas won to be at Dean’s side, but Dean licks his lips as his eyes sweep down Cas’s body. “Wow,” Dean says. “Hey.” 

“Hello,” Cas says back. “You look very nice.” 

Dean laughs and Cas steps back for Dean to come into his house. “Can I kiss you?” Dean says. 

“Yes, of course.” 

Dean puts his hand on Cas’s face and gives him a short, soft kiss, smiling when he steps back. “Are you ready to go or do you want to hang out here for a bit?” 

“I’m ready,” Cas says, and smiles when Dean holds his arm out to escort Cas back out the door. 

“Cool if I drive?” Dean says, and Cas nods his ascent. 

Dean showed Cas his car over the weekend, but this is the first time Cas gets to sit in it. It smells like leather and old books and long summer road trips through the midwest. The car roars to life and classic rock murmurs out of the speakers. “Where are we going?” Cas says. 

“Any objections to a good steak?” 

“I’m a Texan. Of course not.” 

“Ok, cool. I didn’t think we should get too wild on a Tuesday night first date,” Dean says, grinning over at Cas at a stoplight. 

It’s a short drive, and they talk easily, sharing stories about work and Dean tapping the steering wheel to the music Cas can barely make out. 

Dean opens the door into the restaurant for Cas, and they’re seated right away. The waitress is cute and Dean gives her a charming smile when he and Cas order their beers. Cas tries not to read anything into it. 

“Cas, stop worrying,” Dean says. “I’m not going to spring PDA on you out of nowhere.” 

Cas blinks. “I’m not concerned about that.” 

“You’re not? Because you’re being a little squirrelly.” 

“That’s not it. I’m just not sure how to do this.” 

“Do what?” Dean says, accepting his beer and taking a first sip. Cas drinks, too, maybe to give himself time to consider how to respond. 

“Date a man, I suppose.” 

Dean arches an eyebrow. “You think it’s different than dating a woman?” 

“I’m not sure. There are rules with women. There must be rules with men, too, but I don’t know what they are.” 

Dean leans back in his chair. “Tell me some of these rules.” 

“For example, with a woman, I would pay,” Cas says. “But I’m not sure…” 

“Which one of us is the woman?” Dean says, but he’s not really smiling anymore. 

“No, of course not. We’re both men. But who pays?” 

“I invited you out and I picked the restaurant, so I would assume me. But you could go wild and hold a door open for me anyway if you wanted.” 

Cas blushes and keeps his eyes firmly downcast. “I’m sorry.” 

“Cas,” Dean says, leaning forward again to catch Cas’s gaze. “Come on, relax. There aren’t any rules, you know? We just make it up as we go.” 

“I don’t mind if people know we’re on a date,” Cas says. “Due to PDA or any other reason. Closets don’t interest me.” 

“Ok, cool,” Dean says, hooking his ankle around Cas’s calf under the table. “Me either.” 

“How is the Corvette?” Cas asks once their food has arrived. 

“Oh, man. I spent most of the day arguing with myself about paint colors.” 

“May I see the choices?” 

“They did nine colors in ‘75. I’m thinking about this green,” Dean says, holding out his phone to show a green car, then scrolling to another photo. “Or silver.” 

Cas looks at the photo thoughtfully. “I like them both, but the green has a certain moxie.” 

Dean laughs. “‘Moxie’ isn’t the word I used, but that’s what I was thinking.” 

“The silver is nice though. You can’t go wrong.” 

“You’re sweet, Cas,” Dean says with a smile. “We should eat our expensive steaks before they go cold.” 

 

They share a dessert and then linger over two cups of coffee. Dean makes Cas laugh, and even better,  _ Cas  _ makes  _ Dean  _ laugh. Cas can’t stop smiling.

Eventually they run out of excuses to hang around the restaurant. On the way out, Cas puts his hand on Dean’s lower back without consciously deciding to, and Dean flashes him a smile over his shoulder. 

In Cas’s driveway, the Impala’s engine still rumbling, Dean glances over at Cas and smiles shyly. “Thanks for going out with me tonight.” 

“Thank you for inviting me.” Cas looks out the window, towards his front door, and wonders what the rule is about first dates when you’ve already slept together four times. “Would you like to come in?” 

“Hell yeah,” Dean says, his smile widening. He turns the key and follows Cas into the house. 

“Let me give you the tour,” Cas says, feeling awkward as he and Dean pull off their shoes. 

Cas leads Dean around his small house. The bedroom is last, and he tries to rush past it, but Dean stops him with a hand on his elbow. “Hey, Cas. Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes. Please do.” 

Dean steps close, easing Cas backwards until he bumps against the wall. “You’re really sexy when you smile,” Dean says, their mouths so close to touching. “I was thinking about getting you naked all through dinner.” 

Cas’s heart pounds. Even Pamela didn’t talk to him like this, like he’s  _ desired.  _ “Me too. You’re —” Cas doesn’t know how he would finish that sentence so he closes the distance between them to kiss Dean, full and soft at first, then moving quickly to dirty and deep, one of Dean’s hands buried in Cas’s hair and the other gripping Cas’s hip, just under his shirt. 

Dean breaks away so they can pant against each other’s lips, and he says honey-low, “Are you going to make me beg?” 

Cas tells his heart not to beat so loudly. “You mentioned that’ll be difficult when you’re choking on my cock.” 

Dean grins like he’s never been so excited for something before. “You want to do that right here or are we going to bed?” 

“Bed,” Cas says, and then, perhaps unnecessarily, “Please.” 

Dean gives him another kiss — quick this time, a kiss they can keep smiling through — and turns towards the bedroom, Cas hot on his heels. Dean throws himself into the bed and wiggles into the mattress with satisfaction. “This is a nice bed.” 

“Thank you,” Cas says, and lays next to Dean. Dean turns towards him and they kiss again, starting to work at each other’s clothes without much success. 

Dean pulls away, laughing. “Pause the kissing to get naked. Deal?” 

“Acceptable,” Cas says, but he doesn’t move, just staring at Dean’s skin as it’s revealed, the freckles on his shoulders — and back, Cas knows, all the way down to a few stray marks on the swell of his ass — as fascinating as a string of code Cas can’t quite decipher. Something strange and unknown, something he couldn’t have imagined in his own mind. 

“That means you, too,” Dean says. 

Cas flushes a little, despite Dean clearly not minding how he stares, and starts to unbutton his shirt. Dean is supposed to be letting Cas take his clothes off, but instead he leans in to kiss along Cas’s jaw and down his neck, slow and wet with the occasional graze of teeth. 

“Dean,” Cas says, trying for stern, but it comes out more like a gasp. 

“Yeah?” Dean says, pushing Cas’s collar to the side to nip at the curve between Cas’s neck and shoulder. 

“I was trying to take off my clothes.” 

“No, you weren’t. You were looking at me.” 

“Well,” Cas says, hoping for a clever reply to appear in front of him. “You’re nice to look at.” 

Dean laughs and leans back to finish with Cas’s buttons and push his shirt off his shoulders. “You can look at me after I make you come.” 

Cas’s heart stutters but he manages to regain feeling in his hands and work off his jeans and then his underwear. Dean is staring at Cas now, and he runs his fingertips down Cas’s belly, so light to mostly be a tickle, and Cas holds his breath when Dean’s touch reaches his cock. 

“So,” Dean says, giving Cas a flirty smile. “You should sit on the edge of the bed.” 

Cas nods and rearranges with his feet flat on the floor. Dean drops a pillow in front of him but pauses for a long kiss before going to his knees. Dean kisses the top of Cas’s thigh, a sweet kiss that makes Cas flood with a different kind of heat than the one inspired by the sight of Dean on his knees. 

Daphne tried to go down on Cas exactly once, but when her upper lip pulled back in distaste, Cas pulled away and buttoned up his pants and they never spoke of it again. 

But Dean smiles widely up at Cas and says, “I haven’t been with that many uncut guys, but I googled and I think I have some new tricks. Let me know what you think.” 

Cas can’t imagine more tricks than last time. Last time was unbelievable. “I will.” 

Dean takes the head of Cas’s cock into his mouth, teasing his tongue under the foreskin. Cas shudders and jerks and Dean’s mouth comes off with an obscene pop. “Shit, sorry,” Dean says. “Did I hurt you?” 

“No,” Cas says, panting. “No, that was a good trick.” 

Dean laughs and pulls Cas down by the back of the neck to kiss him. “Thanks for the feedback,” Dean says, and then Cas’s cock is in his mouth again. 

Cas’s hand raises to Dean’s hair, twisting strands in his fingers, and Dean makes an encouraging noise as he slowly exposes the crown of Cas’s cock to the hot-soft of his mouth.  _ “Oh,”  _ Cas gasps, bracing his other arm behind him. 

Other than a few days ago, the first time with Dean, Cas has never experienced a blowjob like this — slow, thorough, spit starting to drip down his balls, someone looking up at him with dark, wanting eyes. Cas never wants it to end, but he’s also not disappointed when Dean pulls off and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Cas is starting to realize what a gift Dean’s affection can be. 

“Thank you,” Cas says.

Dean looks at him a little funny. “You’re welcome? I was just gonna say — did you want to fuck my mouth? You can be rough.” 

Cas closes his eyes and takes a careful breath. “Yes. Ok.” 

“People really do it, not just in porn,” Dean says, a tease in his voice. 

Cas’s hand is still in Dean’s hair, and Dean turns his head just enough to nip at Cas’s wrist, and then his mouth is sinking over Cas’s cock again. Dean squeezes Cas’s thigh and Cas leans heavier on his arm to shift his hips upwards, barely. The pleasure of the head of his cock bumping against the back of Dean’s throat is brighter than Cas expected, and with Dean relaxed underneath his hand, he pushes a little deeper.

Dean moans and it vibrates under Cas’s skin. His hips jerk again and he shoves deeper without meaning to, this time popping  _ in.  _ “Dean,” Cas says, urgent and needy, fucking in and out of Dean’s mouth with sloppy abandon. 

“I’m, I’m —” Cas says, and Dean hums happily, the flutter of his throat tossing Cas over the edge. Dean swallows like he’s eager for it, like he likes the way Cas tastes. 

Dean sucks Cas clean and licks his lips afterwards, smiling and flushed. “You like that?” 

Cas touches the side of Dean’s face, his swollen mouth. “Yes, very much.” 

“Let me get up, my knees are killing me.” 

Cas laughs shakily and scoots so Dean can climb in bed with him. Cas stares at him for a long moment, trying to memorize the way Dean looks, the way he feels, the smell of sex in the air. 

Dean is so hard and dripping, just from Cas’s cock in his mouth, and Cas licks his lips. “Can I try?” 

“Sucking my cock? If you want to, yeah.” 

Cas straddles across Dean’s knees and cups his hands around Dean’s hips. He tries to ignore Dean watching him curiously, and leans down to give the slick head a quick lick “Yeah,” Dean breathes. 

It’s too bitter to taste good, but it’s not  _ bad.  _ Cas licks again, letting his lips close around it. When he gives a gentle suck, Dean’s hand raises to pet through his hair, but Dean’s quiet and still, nothing like the ferocity Cas felt with Dean’s mouth on him. Cas tries to take more, but he didn’t realize how  _ big  _ a cock would feel in his mouth, that the urge to gag will roar to life before Cas can even get half in his mouth. 

Cas sits up, looking to the side, where a thread is loose in his comforter. “I’m sorry. I know you aren’t enjoying this.” 

“Cas,” Dean says, and Cas can see his smile out of the corner of his eye. “Come here, kiss me.” 

Cas is clumsy and half-falls on Dean — Dean  _ oofs  _ and then laughs — and then Dean’s hand is on his face, drawing him in for a kiss. Dean’s mouth is still swollen and red from abuse. “You seriously think I’m not enjoying? A gorgeous guy is sucking my dick.”

Cas focuses on Dean’s pretty mouth and says, “You were — quiet.” 

“Mm. I was trying to be polite for your first time. And, um.” Dean’s cheeks redden. “I was trying not to come instantly.” Cas stares at him and Dean says, smiling, “I promise, I was into it.” 

“Would you like me to continue?” 

“Yeah, please.” 

“You can come in my mouth.” 

Dean takes a shaky breath. “Ok. Yeah.” 

Cas scoots back down and slowly licks from the base of Dean’s cock to the head, glancing upwards and then blushing to see Dean’s eyes on him. Cas looks back down and tries to remember the tips he’d seen when  _ he  _ googled, trying to figure out what  _ swirl your tongue  _ might mean, and maybe he succeeds because Dean gasp-moans and grabs for Cas’s shoulder. 

Cas gags when he tries to take Dean deeper, but Dean keeps smiling and says, “You don’t have to take so much, it’s still good. You can use your hand.” 

Cas gives up on trying for much more than the dark head, trying out different levels of suction to find the one that makes Dean’s moans louder. It takes a minute to figure out the coordination of hand and mouth, but with spit dribbling down to ease the way, Cas gets the hang of it pretty fast. 

“Cas,” Dean says, fingers clenching on his shoulder, “I’m gonna come.” 

Dean’s come is like a more intense version of his precome, closer to unpleasant but not quite. There’s more than Cas expected, and he pulls off before Dean’s quite done so the last of it ends up streaked across his lips and chin. He uses his hand to wipe it away without thinking, then worries that’s rude. 

“Holy shit,” Dean says, smiling and panting. “Did you hate it?” 

“No, not at all,” Cas says, looking thoughtfully at Dean’s softening cock, shining with spit and come. “I look forward to doing it again.” 

“Cuddle me,” Dean says. “You know I like that.” 

Cas laughs, because he does know that, and it’s a thrill to know something about Dean, even something so small. Cas grabs a couple of wipes from the drawer — Dean arches an eyebrow and Cas says, scowling, “I like to be prepared” — and cleans them up before laying next to Dean. 

Before Cas even realizes it’s happening, Dean tucks himself into Cas’s arms, nuzzling against his cheek. “I know this is stupid,” Dean says. “I’m just kind of — I like that I’m the first one you’ve done this with. Men can be such fuckin’ creeps, you know? I might not be worth much but at least I’m not a creep.” 

“Was your first blowjob with a creep?” Cas asks, squeezing his arm around Dean’s shoulders. The sex is really good, but so is this part, Dean soft and close, speaking in quiet murmurs. 

“A little,” Dean says. “He was a lot older than me and — I thought I had to to prove how grown up I was. But Jesus, he tasted fucking nasty.  _ Vinegar.”  _ Dean shudders. “I’ve sucked a lot of dicks, and that’s the only time the taste has made me want to puke.” 

“I’m surprised you ever tried again.” 

“Yeah, I’m a masochist I guess.” 

Cas turns his head to kiss Dean’s forehead, and then Dean tilts his face upwards for a kiss on the lips. Dean smiles and Cas smiles back. “I can’t stay forever,” Dean says, “I have a lot to do at work tomorrow. But we could watch a movie or something if you wanted.” 

“I would like that,” Cas says. “We could even make out more.” 

“That’s the spirit,” Dean says, laughing. “A man after my own heart.” 

 

Cas listens to podcasts while he brushes his teeth, showers, shaves, gets dressed, drives to work — except today he’s only half-listening, a significant portion of his attentions focused on what he’ll text Dean. 

The night before, they’d ended up falling asleep together on the couch, both of them wearing Cas’s sweatpants and Dean draped over Cas’s body in a solid, comforting weight. It was nearly two when Dean groaned and hid his face in Cas’s neck and mumbled, “I gotta go.” Cas walked him to the door, rubbing his eyes, and Dean gave him a quick kiss before stepping out into the dark. 

Cas is pretty sure Dean likes him, but he’s still nervous of misstepping. It’s so easy to touch Dean in person — almost impossible not to — but touching him seems harder when all Cas has to offer are dry, overly formal texts. 

While he’s still drafting in his head, his phone dings with an incoming message from Dean. Cas clenches his fingers on the steering wheel as the robot voice recites:  _ Morning gorgeous. How’d you sleep?  _

Cas isn’t taking the risk of voice-to-text, so he waits until a red light to reply.

**Cas:** I slept well, up until you left. 

The robot voice reads,  _ Aw. Were you lonely without me?  _

For once, Cas wishes for a stoplight so he can type his reply. 

**Cas:** Will we be able to see each other again soon? 

_ I’ve got plans Saturday afternoon but otherwise I’m pretty open this week. I make my own schedule.  _

**Cas:** I’ll look at my calendar when I get to the office. 

_ Hope you can fit me in sooner rather than later.  _

**Cas:** Haha, yes, I’ll try to fit you in amongst my numerous thrilling social engagements.

_ Dork.  _

Cas is smiling when he walks into the building, and it doesn’t falter even when all the blueberry muffins are already gone or when he logs on to his computer and realizes he won’t have any free time until Friday. Then again, maybe three times in a week is too much, despite “sooner rather than later.” 

**Cas:** I’ll be working late tonight and tomorrow, but free starting Friday evening. 

**Dean:** I guess I’ll have to wait until Friday then   
**Dean:** I hope you don’t think I’m pushy. I kinda have a crush if you didn’t notice. I’ll chill out if you want

**Cas:** No, I’d like to take you out on Friday. 

**Dean:** Take ME out? Does that mean you pay? ;) 

**Cas:** Yes. 

**Dean:** I’m driving though so I guess we’re both the women 

Cas snorts, and one of his coworkers looks up and raises an eyebrow. “Good morning,” Cas says, and tries to keep his smile tamped down through the rest of a silly conversation with Dean. Eventually Dean sends him a kissy-face emoji and says he has to get to work. 

 

Late night at Google is unsettling and exhilarating. During the day, the building is buzzing with hundreds of bodies moving to and fro, sharing ideas, sharing laughs, sharing snacks. At night, it’s haunted and dim, just the endless hum of computers to keep him company. There are other people who work late, of course, but rarely on Cas’s floor. 

Cas’s floor is his favorite, because none of the good food is on it so there’s less foot traffic, but also because it has a grand piano tucked away in a corner of a small listening lounge with overstuffed pillows for seating. Cas isn’t any good, but he likes to fiddle with the keys anyway, at least when no one is around. 

**Dean:** Hey   
**Dean:** Call me? 

**Cas:** Are you requesting a call to have phone sex again? I’m still at work. 

**Dean:** Damn, caught me 

Cas gets up off the piano bench to take a picture of it to send Dean. 

**Cas:** This is my favorite part of google. 

**Dean:** You play piano? 

**Cas:** Not very well. 

**Dean:** Video or it didn’t happen 

**Cas:** One moment. 

Cas takes a second to set up his phone. It’s not the best angle but will have to do. Cas considers what to play and ends up going with  _ Circles.  _

It’s a short piece, but Cas’s favorite by far of his originals, and he nearly faints in terror as soon as he hits  _ send.  _

**Cas:** It’s called Circles. I composed it when I was much younger. 

**Dean:** YOU wrote that?? 

**Cas:** Yes. 

**Dean:** You’re pretty fuckin casual about just being out there composing music and not telling me about it 

**Cas:** I double majored in composition and computer science in undergrad. I chose computers ultimately because music doesn’t pay well. 

**Dean:** You said you weren’t good at piano 

**Cas:** I’m passable in several instruments, but I’ve always been better at hearing things in my head than making them happen on the keys. :) 

**Dean:** Dude you’re really fuckin cool you know that? And that song is amazing    
**Dean:** And you’re hot as hell. I think you just seduced me

**Cas:** What will you prove to me with a video? 

**Dean:** We haven’t known each other long enough for me to just send you a vid of me jerking off, but do you want me to? 

**Cas:** Yes, I do. 

Cas rushes back to his desk and packs up his belongings. He’s in the elevator headed down when the alert pops up that he has a new video message, but he waits until he’s in his car. He glances around — the parking lot is empty other than him — before hitting play. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean’s voice says, rough, as his face comes into focus. There’s a coy smile on his mouth and the green arm of the couch under his head, the light from the tv flickering across his features. “Been thinkin’ about you today.” 

The camera pulls back so Cas can see Dean’s smile get a little shy when he starts to pan down his body. His body is mouth-watering, the kind of muscle that comes from working with his hands every day, and Cas holds his breath when Dean’s cock comes into view, already dripping at the tip, with Dean’s hand wrapped around it. 

Dean makes a soft noise when he starts to stroke himself. Cas stares, transfixed, as Dean’s hand pumps his cock, twisting his wrist just so to make him gasp. “Oh, fuck,” Dean says, and Cas presses the heel of his hand against his cock, stirring in his jeans.

Dean lets go of his cock and his hand leaves the frame. Cas hears the distinct sound of Dean spitting, and when he starts stroking again, his hand slides better. Dean doesn’t say anymore words, just gasps and moans and whimpers, stomach muscles fluttering when his grip tightens. 

_ “Fuck,”  _ Dean says, and then covers his belly in long white stripes.

Dean lets go of his cock and the camera view follows his fingers as they trail upwards through his come, smearing up his sternum, and then he’s sucking his fingers into his mouth, staring into the camera from under his eyelashes. Dean’s still sucking at his fingers when the video ends. 

Cas takes several measured breaths in a row, and then calls Dean on speakerphone. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says, the same way he said it in the video, and the tv is still mumbling in the background. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

“Did you like it?” 

Cas licks his lips. “Yes.” 

“Jesus, I’m tryin’ real hard not to offer to come blow you at your desk.” 

“That wouldn’t be wise. I’m heading home, however.” 

“Does that mean I’m getting another video?” 

“I’ll make one.” 

“Ok, I’m hanging up so you can drive safe. I look forward to the video.” 

 

Cas’s video is not very good, and he comes too fast after spending a twenty-minute drive thinking about Dean, wondering what they’ll do on Friday after their date, wondering if Dean will let Cas fuck him again if asked nicely. 

Dean calls as soon as he’s watched it. “Castiel Novak, you’re going to kill me.” 

“I’ll recite poetry at your funeral.” 

“Ooh,” Dean says, leering. “Talk poetry to me, baby.” 

_ “Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,”  _ Cas starts, and is pleased when Dean laughs and laughs. 

“I respect Whitman,” Dean says. 

“I know a lot of Rumi as well.” 

“Very sexy. Hey, I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Where are you taking me?” 

“Baseball?” 

“Is that a question?” Dean says. “I didn’t think you liked sports.”

“You like baseball.” 

“Did I tell you that?” 

“Yes. Your Uncle Bobby took you to games when you were a kid.” 

“Ok, baseball. What time should I pick you up?” 

 

Dean gives Cas a quick kiss and then holds open the passenger door for him with a smirk. “Dean,” Cas says sternly, and Dean just laughs. 

Cas takes Dean’s hand as they walk from the car to the entrance to the stadium. Dean veers closer to bump their shoulders together, gifting Cas with a smile full of sunshine. “So there’s a piano in your office and you get free baseball tickets for a private suite? Nice perks.” 

“There’s free beer, too,” Cas says. 

“I won the sugar daddy lottery,” Dean says. 

Cas rolls his eyes and decides not to respond, instead digging the tickets out of his wallet and handing them over to the attendant. He and Dean both get their hands stamped to identify them as suite members and pointed the direction towards their box, and then Dean grabs Cas’s hand again, smearing his stamp. 

There are a handful of people in the suite that Cas has never seen before. Dean drops Cas’s hand and puts on a big smile and Cas wonders what the others are thinking when he and Dean introduce themselves —  _ Castiel Novak, Machine Learning  _ and  _ Dean, not smart enough to work at Google.  _ He’s relieved when Dean suggests they take their beers to the seats outdoors. 

It’s not sweltering, but it’s hot enough that Dean and Cas are the only ones leaving behind the air conditioned box to take their Google-coozied beers out to the stadium seats. “There’s no way we’re sitting inside for your first game,” Dean says, smiling over at Cas. 

“Of course,” Cas says. 

“We’re definitely doing hotdogs later, too.” 

“Anything else required for a good baseball game?” 

“Peanuts,” Dean says. “And the kiss cam.” 

“What, pray tell, is a kiss cam?” 

“In between innings or whatever, they show couples kissing on the jumbotron.” 

Cas arches his eyebrows. “How would a couple get on said kiss cam?” 

“I dunno. I guess if you kiss enough, maybe someone will notice.” 

“We’ll do our best.” 

Dean’s smile widens and he leans in to give Cas a quick kiss. Cas tries not to smile back like an idiot. 

“Am I going to have to explain the game to you?” 

“I’ve heard there’s a pitcher and a catcher.” 

Dean throws his head back to laugh. “I played baseball for awhile when I was a kid. And, yeah, I was a catcher.” 

Cas blushes. A cheer goes up as the players take their places on the field. “Which team are we rooting for?” 

 

They end up back at Cas’s after the game, and Dean does beg when Cas won’t give him the  _ more, harder  _ he wants. Dean stays over and scrounges up enough from Cas’s kitchen to make omelettes and toast for breakfast, and then they cuddle back in bed for Netflix and nap. 

“So,” Dean murmurs into Cas’s hair. “It’s my turn to take you on a date. What are you doing in a few hours?” 

“You said you have plans.” 

“Well, yeah. I’m trying to invite you to go with me. But maybe it’s not a real date since my friends will be there.” 

“Your friends,” Cas repeats.

“Ok,” Dean says, sounding disappointed. “We can, um, maybe — later this week?” 

Cas turns over onto his back to look at Dean. “I want to go.” 

“You’re a big nerd, but I promise, this will be the geekiest thing you’ve ever done.” 

“You don’t know how much D&D I played in college.” 

“You don’t hate Harry Potter, right?” 

“No,” Cas says, curious now. “Where are we going?” 

“I’m not telling.” Dean kisses Cas, soft and long. “And I’m kinda hoping you’ll fuck me again before we go.” 

 

“Can I ask you something?” Cas says as they dress after a shower. 

“Yup.” 

“Do people usually — we’ve had a lot of sex.” 

Dean looks up sharply. “Have you not wanted to?” 

“Of course I wanted to,” Cas says, frowning. “But is this normal?” 

“Does it matter?” Dean says, pulling a t-shirt over his head. “Are you worried about rules again?” 

“I like you a lot,” Cas says. “I’d like to do this right.” 

“All right, well.” Dean grabs Cas by the hips and tugs him close enough to kiss. “Fucking as often as we want definitely isn’t wrong. And I like you a lot too. Hurry up, Charlie will kill me if we’re late.” 

 

Dean parks them at a little athletic park not far from the university and leads Cas out onto the soccer field. There’s a smallish group milling around on one of the soccer fields, many of them with brooms in hand. 

“Is this — a quidditch match?” 

Dean laughs. “Yup. Charlie’s the —” Before he can finish, a redhead nearly Cas’s height shrieks and races over to jump on Dean.

Dean stumbles backwards but manages to stay on his feet. “Hey, Charlie,” Dean says, laughing, as she drops back to the ground. 

“Cas!” Charlie says, throwing her arms around Cas’s neck next. “Dean didn’t tell me he was bringing you.” 

“It was a last-minute decision,” Cas says. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Charlie’s the snitch, hence the outfit,” Dean says. 

“What does a human snitch do?” 

“You’re about to find out,” Charlie says with a smirk, then turns and runs back to the field. 

There are more people in the stands than Cas would’ve expected, and apparently they all know Dean. Dean takes Cas over to where a group of players are clustered, brooms in hand, talking to some of the spectators. One of the players, a cute pony-tailed blonde, looks over at them and says, “Oh, shit.  _ That’s  _ Cas?!” 

Cas flushes and looks down. His fear about meeting Dean’s friends was legitimate, then. 

“Don’t, Jo,” Dean says, a warning in his tone. 

“You big baby,” Jo says, poking Dean with her broom. “You don’t want him to know about your massive crush?” 

Cas looks over and Dean’s blushing. “He already knows,” Dean says, steadfastly not looking back at Cas. “Anyway. This is Cas. Cas, these assholes call themselves my friends. That’s Jo, Dorothy, Gilda, Kevin, Chuck, Garth.”

After a couple of minutes, half of Dean’s friends head back to the field to finish warming up. Dean and Cas take a seat next to Gilda, a row behind where Kevin and Chuck are arguing about what must be a video game. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Cas,” Gilda says, leaning over Dean to squeeze Cas’s knee. “Dean’s said a lot about you.” 

Dean’s blushing again, and Cas raises an eyebrow at him. “What have you been saying about me?” 

“Uh, let’s not get into it,” Dean says. 

“He said you’re very intelligent and handsome,” Gilda says.

Cas squints. Dean says, “Am I going to have to explain this game to you too?” 

“I’m familiar with the rules, though curious how it’s going to work without magic.” 

“The snitch is more violent, for one,” Gilda says. 

“Color me intrigued,” Cas says. 

It’s obvious pretty quick that Chuck is even more awkward than Cas is, and no one seems to mind. Neither Cas or Dean stop smiling the entire time, and Cas doesn’t hesitate to kiss Dean soundly in celebration when Jo’s team wins. 

“Traditionally, there’s beer afterwards,” Dean says. “But I can take you home if you want.” 

“No, let’s have beer.” 

Cas and Dean join a crowd of quidditch players and spectators at a nearby bar. They end up at the end of the table with Kevin, Charlie, and a couple other tech people, debating bioethics while Dean and Jo taunt each other. 

On the way back to Cas’s, they tipsily argue about if it’s still just one date if they continue spending time together throughout the evening. “More than twenty-four hours can’t be the same date,” Dean says. 

“All right,” Cas says. “Please define the maximum amount of hours per date. Is there a minimum as well?” 

Dean rolls his eyes, laughing. “You’re a pedantic asshole.” 

“You’re very imprecise, but I like you anyway.”

Dean stretches over to kiss Cas until the car behind them lays on the horn. 

 

Cas’s parents invite him and Hannah over for a grill-out around the pool, and it seems like as good as an opportunity as any. Once drinks are procured and they’re all sitting around the deck table assembling kabobs, Cas says, “I have something to tell you.” 

Hannah raises their eyebrows at Cas and gives him an encouraging smile. 

“It’s recently come to my attention that I’m gay,” Cas says. 

“Honey, that’s too many onions,” Mom says, frowning at Dad.

“Honey, I  _ like _ onions,” Dad says. 

“Guys,” Hannah says. “Pay attention.” 

Mom laughs. “Should I act surprised?” 

Cas blinks. 

“We’ve been waiting for you to get with the picture,” Dad says, spearing another onion. “Did you meet someone, is that what prompted this?” 

“Waiting,” Cas repeats. “How long?”

Mom and Dad exchange a look, and Mom says, “Since you were about thirteen.” 

“You didn’t think this was relevant enough to share?” 

“When you met Daphne, I thought we may have been wrong.” 

Cas frowns down at the kabob he’s working on. “Yes, I met someone. His name is Dean.” 

“They met at that kissing thing Brian did,” Hannah says. “He’s hot.” 

“Did you get to meet him before us?” Mom says, looking suspiciously between Hannah and Cas. 

“They haven’t met,” Cas says. “Hannah saw a picture.” 

Hannah whips out their phone and shows it to their parents. “Hannah!” Cas says, blushing. He’s looked at the photo enough times to know that, even with nothing showing, it’s obvious that they’re nude and therefore probably just as obvious what they had just been doing. 

“He is hot,” Dad says, and Mom smacks him in the arm. 

“He looks sweet. Smitten with you, clearly,” Mom says. 

“He’s very sweet. We’ve spent a lot of time together the last couple of weeks.”

Cas’s parents and sibling spend all the way through dinner quizzing him about Dean, his career and his hobbies and his family and his political leanings and a variety of topics Cas doesn’t know the answer to, until enough margaritas have been poured that they descend into drunkenly telling stories about events they were all at. 

In his pocket, Cas’s phone buzzes. Cas immediately tunes out his family to check his texts.

**Dean:** Home from dinner yet? 

**Cas:** I’m a little drunk   
**Cas:** So no 

**Dean:** Text me and let me know how it went later :) 

**Cas:** Apparently they’ve known since I was 13, so I’m a little miffed none of them bothered to tell me. 

**Dean:** Hahaha! Sounds like it went well 

**Cas:** You’ll feel differently when you’re invited for dinner next time.

**Dean:** I know a lot of dad jokes 

Hannah throws a piece of bell pepper and it bounces off of Cas’s nose. “That must be your loverboy.” 

“I’m glad to see you happy,” Mom says. “You work too hard. You deserve it.” 

 

Hannah drives Cas home in his car and then ubers back to their parents’ house, and Cas is listening to Dean’s phone ring on speaker while he stumbles out of his shoes and clothes, mostly in the wrong order. 

“Hey, baby,” Dean says, sounding tired. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cas says. “It’s late.” 

“Nah, I was waiting up for you. You sound like you’re having a good time.” 

Cas laughs and collapses backwards on the bed, the phone bouncing next to him on the mattress. “My mom makes a strong margarita. Or three.” 

“What did you tell them?” 

“I said, ‘Mom, Dad, I’m gay.’ And Mom said, ‘Pass the salt, please.’” Dean laughs, loud and tinny next to Cas’s ear, and Cas says, “And then Hannah showed them the picture of us.” 

“The one when we first hung out?” 

“Yes.”

“At least no one’s dick is visible,” Dean says. “When do I get to see you again?” 

“Right now. Come over here and fuck me.” 

“Cas,” Dean groans. “I gotta be up in six hours. Can we raincheck for tomorrow night?” 

“Fine,” Cas says, pouting as he kicks his jeans off his ankles. 

“When am I comin’ to family dinner?” 

“We could arrange something next weekend,” Cas says, closing his eyes and smiling ridiculously wide.

Dean sounds like he’s smiling, too. “Cool. Get some sleep, drunky. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

“Goodnight, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> [reallyelegantsharkfish on tumblr](http://reallyelegantsharkfish.tumblr.com)
> 
> i'm so bad at answering comments because i think i end up just deciding to spend my time writing new stories instead, but every one is appreciated so much (and fwiw all 3 stories in this series came about from someone dropping a comment and subtly tricking me into writing whatever they want). <33


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